


Blame it on the Boogie

by kissingandcrying



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Drunk Harry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 23:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10476927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissingandcrying/pseuds/kissingandcrying
Summary: Harry was too old to be visiting clubs. He was 50, had more gray hairs than suits, and had never really learned how to dance. Still, there’d been a mission with a high mortality rate and the one way to get Eggsy to pay attention was to promise him that if he lived through it, they could go to that stupid dingy joint together. Naturally, there was nary a scratch on the boy's head when he returned from Vienna and upon skipping his way down the steps of the plane, purred, “Oh, Harry. I can't fucking wait.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I felt bad that instead of doing my lesson plans I did this, but I wanted to write something. It came out shorter than expected and is literally just Eggsy and Harry going to dance to Michael Jackson together.

Harry was too old to be visiting clubs. He was 50, had more gray hair than suits, and had never _really_ learned how to dance. Still, there’d been a mission with a high mortality rate and the one way to get Eggsy to pay attention was to promise him that _if_ he lived through it, they could go to that stupid dingy joint together. Naturally, there was nary a scratch on the boy's head when he returned from Vienna and upon skipping his way down the steps of the plane, purred, “Oh,  _H_ _arry_. I can't fucking wait.”

Eggsy was only twenty five so at the very least he had his age going for him. He arrived at Harry’s house that evening in clothing that was more reserved than his usual look. He was in a cardigan and a pair of trousers rolled up to his calves. His shoes were low-top sneakers and with his hands in his pockets, he was incredibly attractive. It fit him. He didn’t look overdressed and he didn’t look like he’d just rolled out of bed either. Still - he kept that unfiltered personality of his and the first words out of his mouth were, “Christ, Haz. You can’t wear that.”

Harry hadn’t changed his suit from his visit to headquarters. It was one of his better suits, sure. Eggsy’s reaction still seemed a bit exaggerated.

“How are you gonna dance in that?” Eggsy continued. He nudged his way into Harry’s flat  and closed the door behind himself, moving Harry politely out of the way so that he could run up the stairs.

“I won’t be dancing.” Harry called after him.

Eggsy stopped mid-step and turned around. His expression was a healthy mix of exasperated, amused, and irritated. Harry appreciated his concern, but he wasn’t going to be dancing. He’d never learned to do it and rather than make an embarrassment of himself and undo all of his hard work in stacking confidence, he had already made up his mind that he’d fill the time with drinking and (if Eggsy wasn't too stroppy) talking.

“We’ll see.” Eggsy said before turning around and continuing his way up the stairs.

Harry sighed and began to wiggle the head of his tie down so that he could loosen it. He’d agree to a suit change, but he wouldn’t be dancing.

It took Eggsy twenty minutes to jog back down the stairs with a jumper hung over his forearm.

“Is that my cotton jumper?” Harry asked.

“Well it’s either this or a nightie. All the others are suits. Speakin' of, why do you got a nightie in your room?”

“An old mission.” Harry said shortly. He snagged the jumper from the cradle of Eggsy’s arm and headed to the bathroom, locking himself in and changing quickly. Luckily the jumper matched. It was an old, gray thing that he’d been given as a Christmas gift from Merlin years ago. There were little fabric pills on it that made it look older than it was. This particular piece of clothing was one of the more abused pieces of clothing in his wardrobe.

If not in clothing choice, Eggsy seemed determined to age Harry another fifty years before the night was out. There was one thing that Harry knew for sure, though, and that was that he wouldn’t be dancing.

* * *

 

Eggsy must’ve known something that Harry didn’t. Apart from walking a bit too close on the way to the club, he kept _smiling._ He went from looking at the damp pavement in front of him to looking over at Harry with his bottom lip trapped beneath his teeth.

“Is something the matter?” Harry asked.

“No, I’m just… happy.”

“Happy to be going out?”

“With you.” Eggsy clarified. “Didn’t know I’d have to go on suicide missions to do it.”

“It was hardly a suicide mission.” Harry said. It’d been a very difficult mission but Merlin wouldn’t have let Eggsy go if he’d thought the boy couldn’t handle it. The fact that Eggsy had come back more wholesome than he left (fed and well-slept) was shocking. It ultimately confirmed his skill as an agent which Harry was quite proud of. At this point, it was unlikely that there was any mission that would best his boy, but Harry would admit to worrying occasionally if it forced him to proactively keep Eggsy from doing dumb things on the job. “I agree that perhaps we could have done this a bit sooner.”

“Gone dancing?”

“We’re not going dancing. We’re going for a drink.” Harry told him.

Eggsy laughed and wove his arm around Harry’s. Apparently he wasn’t shy about looking like a sugar baby. Harry looked down at their arms wound together and smiled.

“Right, so I think that we should grab a drink and then go and dance.”

“ _Eggsy_.”

“Oh. C’mon Haz.” Eggsy begged. “Just two songs.”

Harry wasn’t equipped to handle pouting. He took one look at Eggsy and wilted under his reproach. He was beginning to wonder if Eggsy was aware that he couldn’t dance.

The doors of the club were highlighted by a blue, illuminated band that had been propped up around them. There were deposits of trash in the potholes around the entrance steps, condom wrappers in the door hinges, and questionable substances staining the ground. Harry looked at the flickering sign that said ‘Tootles’ and then looked down at the bouncer in the doorway and decided that if he needed to dance to cut this trip short, maybe it was for the best to just embarrass himself and do whatever Eggsy asked him to. This entire place was a mess.

“Don’t look like that.” Eggsy hissed. "It ain't that bad."

“Two songs.” Harry parroted. “That’s all.”

"Two songs." Eggsy confirmed before dragging him in.

The inside of the club wasn’t nearly as unhygienic as the outside. It was congested and it smelled like sweat and metabolizing alcohol, but the floors were clean enough. The visitors themselves seemed to be dressed according to theme. They were all in jumpers, cardigans, or polos of some sort and their trousers were well-fitted. Harry was surprised to see so many coordinated people.

Eggsy wheedled them through the crowd and to the bar. Harry felt hands on his thighs, backside, and chest, but only Eggsy grabbing his hand to keep track of him seemed to register as intentional. He still looked around him to observe what was happening and was shocked to find that it wasn’t quite as rowdy as he had expected. In fact, the music was -

“Michael Jackson.” Harry said.

“Yeah. Got a mate that works here and told me about it. Said it might be up your alley.”

The seats at the bar were full and so Eggsy pressed himself into the space between two older men and waved the bartender over. Harry fell into the space behind him for lack of a better place to go, and so when Eggsy had two colourful shots in his hand and turned around to hand one off, he startled by how closely Harry had gotten.

“ _Shit_ , Harry. Not that time of night yet, is it? Here. Drink this.”

“What is it?”

Eggsy took his shot and then tilted his head curiously. Harry sighed and downed his own, gagging at the burn of whatever drink was in his glass. It tasted like peach and cinnamon and Harry wasn’t fond of either flavour. Eggsy seemed to feel similarly because the second drink he handed them was transparent and smelled like rubbing alcohol. Obviously Vodka, cheap and straight.

“I’m too old for this,” Harry said to himself as he took the shot and then handed the glass back.

“You don’t look it. One more?”

“No.”

Eggsy was handing him one anyway and then guiding the glass to his lips and helping him tip it back with a soft, “there we go.” There was barely a minute between the shot burning it’s way down to his stomach, Eggsy stealing the shot glass, and then Eggsy dragging them off to where people were dancing to “ _Blame it on the Boogie.”_

Harry’s reflux was kicking in. His stomach was no stranger to alcohol but something about taking all three shots at once seemed to be giving him grief. Eggsy didn’t notice. He moved ahead of Harry and carved a way for them to the speakers, and then he turned in Harry’s arms with a smile on his face that was bigger than Harry’d ever seen it.

“Eggsy, I -”

“Two songs.” Eggsy mouthed, body already starting to move from side to side. Nobody was paying them any attention but Harry looked around himself briefly to size up his neighbours. Eggsy sighed loudly enough for Harry to hear it and then took the man’s hands. He swayed slowly from side to side and said, “C’mon. Copy me."

Perhaps Harry was dense. He was under the impression that Eggsy couldn’t dance. Not that Eggsy was bound to be bad, but something in Harry had said that Eggsy would only be decent. Socially passable. Eggsy was doing fine holding a beat, and further than that, he seemed to actually have experience with even rocking from side to side.

Harry took a deep breath. Eggsy looked up at him expectantly and then with slight hesitation reached up and took Harry’s glasses off. He folded them and tucked them into the pocket of his cardigan before reaching for his hands again. “I wanna dance with you.”

“I know. I’m not very good at it.” Harry yelled while Eggsy watched his lips. Being close to the speaker wasn’t helping him figure this all out.

“Look,” Eggsy mouthed. He leaned left, stepped. Leaned right, stepped. His lips formed the words alongside the music and Harry watched him move from side to side, eventually swaying his body with it. Simple. Easy. He could do that. But then then he remember he was in a room full of people. When Harry peeked over his shoulder, Eggsy patiently guided him back.

“They’re all smashed! Come on!” Eggsy laughed. He let go of Harry’s hands and held his hips instead, encouraging him to try and keep up.

Harry had to believe that if he could shoot a moving target the size of a pea, he could step in time with Eggsy. It was part liquid courage and part curiosity. He told himself it wasn’t really dancing. It was just enough to make Eggsy happy and to burn a little bit of the alcohol digesting in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

At some point Harry forgot to keep up with appearances and started to have fun.

Somewhere between P.Y.T and Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough, he lost his jumper and took his clothing down to the button up. Eggsy cheered him on and then eventually _everyone_ cheered him on. He hadn't had this much attention on himself in years and it felt _good_. His current occupation prevented him from doing things like this unbidden. If it weren't for Eggsy, he wouldn't have done a lot of things.

The club quickly exhausted the Michael Jackson playlist (It had atleast run through the songs you’d be able to dance to) and moved to Earth, Wind and Fire. For a moment, Harry was dangerously close to busting out the soul train moves Merlin had convinced him to try when they were training together. He’d done them terribly, but he was willing to give them another try to keep the night going.

Eggsy began to wiggle his way towards Harry’s body while Harry made a face, beckoned with his finger and then opened his arms wide enough for the boy to slip into the space between them. 

“Havin’ fun?” Eggsy asked as he hugged Harry’s waist and moved both of them in time with the music.

“What?” Harry yelled back.

Eggsy went up onto his tiptoes and yelled, “Are you _having fun_ , Harry?”

Oh, yes. Yes he was.

Harry turned to say something and found that Eggsy was already looking at him. Their noses bumped and Eggsy stuck his tongue out before dancing his way free. Harry followed suit, swaying crazily from side to side and then twisting himself around so that he could move into his own space. Despite the theatrics (most likely to make Harry more comfortable), Eggsy was a good dancer. He was confident and he knew where he wanted his body to go. Harry was daft for presuming that he would be anything but. He wanted to try and keep up for atleast a little while longer.

They danced their way around each other with their arms high, low, and all around themselves. Harry wiggled his legs in his trousers and Eggsy whistled. Harry did it again and again until Eggsy was in tears about it, trying to copy him.

“You look like Mr. Bean!” Eggsy screamed.

It was quite possibly the most fun Harry’d had in a long time.

* * *

 

The night disappeared quite literally. Harry could feel himself blinking the hours away until Eggsy was telling him to get dressed and then helping him back into his jumper. He’d gotten a few more shots into his system and wasn’t quite sure he could walk home, but Eggsy assured him quickly enough that he’d keep them safe until they got back to Harry’s flat.

“Eggsy.”

“Mm.”

“Eggsy.” Harry croaked again, reaching for his cheeks and then pinching them. Eggsy swatted his hands away and continued to fuss around with his clothing. “You should call Merlin and he'll... he'll get us.”

“I think we got it.” Eggsy said.

“I don’t got it.” Harry mumbled.

Eggsy looked up at him blankly and then said, “Did you just say ‘I don’t got it’?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” Eggsy huffed. Then he wrapped his arm around Harry’s and began the process of walking him to the door. Harry hadn’t let himself get like this since the day he discovered alcohol. His mother had warned him off of drinks that went down faster than you could taste them because this was the result. There was an underlying guilt that transpired about halfway home because he could feel Eggsy taking his weight whenever his legs felt like maybe they didn’t want to function as legs anymore.

“I’m sorry for this.” Harry said.

“Why’re you sorry, love?” Eggsy asked. “It’s the point of going out, innit?”

Harry wouldn’t know anything about modern social gatherings. He never had to deal with them outside of scoping targets and gathering intel. He had never really been one for going out when he was younger either, though he’d certainly been dipping his decisions in liquor since he was much younger than Eggsy’s age. 

“You atleast had fun, yeah?”

“I did.” Harry admitted easily. “Eggsy, I think that was the most fun I’ve ever had going out.”

“You like Michael Jackson that much.” Eggsy guessed. Harry just snorted and then apologized, and then he let Eggsy drag him the rest of the way home in quiet.

Somehow they made it back without any issues. His glasses pinged a few times - quite likely Merlin checking his location to make sure he hadn’t crawled into a ditch. Harry’s vitals were usually quiet around 3 a.m. and it was pushing 4 so he wasn’t shocked by Merlin’s peeking in to keep an eye on him. Eggsy removed Harry’s glasses once they’d made it to bed and set them on the dresser.

“You’re welcome to stay Eggsy. I can - can sleep on the sofa.”

“You’re already in the bed.” Eggsy informed him. “It’s big enough for both of us.”

“Is it alright for you to sleep in bed with me?” Harry asked.

“I plan on sucking your cock in the morning, so I reckon. Saves me a trip up the stairs.”

“Oh.” Harry said. Then, after a beat he said, “In the morning?”

“Yeah.” Eggsy grunted, wiggling out of his cardigan and then turning to fuck around in Harry’s drawers for some bedclothes to slip into. “I’m takin' one. Do you mind?”

“No.”

Eggsy laughed to himself and yanked a small, pink nightie out. He waved it over his shoulder before taking himself off to the bathroom to change into it. Harry doubted he’d even fit into it considering it had previously belonged to a size zero woman about as tall as a rubbish bin. But paint him surprised when a moment later Eggsy came back in, covered in an ill-fitting nightie that looked ridiculous enough to reduce Harry to unattractive laughter.

“I think I look good.” Eggsy told him. “But that’s the alcohol talking. Budge up.”

Harry moved to accommodate and Eggsy crawled onto the mattress and flopped down right beside him. The bed jostled them a bit closer to each other and Harry thought ‘fuck it’ and went in for a cuddle. He could hear the smile in Eggsy’s words when he said ‘Harry the Octopus,” and then again when he said, ‘Can I keep this?’

Harry would’ve given Eggsy anything then because he was a) drunk and b) looking for an opportunity to see him in a tiny, pink nightie again. He moved in closer and nudged his face against Eggsy’s neck, saying, “It’s all yours.”


End file.
